"I told you it was over the top."

Spike snorted.

"Well, you wouldn't let me hang the sex toys up," he reminded Xander.

"No, not with the gang coming over," Xander said. "And I'm not complaining about the half-ton of Mardi Gras beads on the tree, even though you can hardly see the tree under them. And I'm not complaining about the pralines instead of candy canes."

"Well, you wouldn't let me hang those little vials of blood," Spike grinned. "Besides, they were a big hit, weren't they, those pralines? Hardly a one left."

"And I'm not complaining about the black velvet tree skirt. It's just that you can carry a theme too far," Xander said patiently, gesturing at the voodoo doll, transfixed by a number of long pins, perched jauntily atop the Christmas tree.

"Not like it looks like anybody we know," Spike snickered.

"Spike, it has blonde hair," Xander pointed out.

"Lots of people have blonde hair," Spike said innocently, dipping his head to indicate his own. "Tara does, and she just laughed, ey?"

"Yeah, but putting a stake in one of the doll's hands and a mirror in the other, a cheerleading outfit, and high heels on its feet, kind of, hmmm, gives a clue, doesn't it?" Xander pressed.

"'S a bloody joke," Spike protested. "Doesn't anybody have a sense of humor these days? Fit the theme, it does, and it's a lark, that's all."

"I don't think it would've had quite the same impact if Buffy hadn't just fried her mouth and throat on our gumbo," Xander admitted, grinning. "Funny, nobody ate all that much of it."

"More for us," Spike shrugged. "So . . . the pressies we got each other, leave 'em for tomorrow or open 'em now?"

"Now's good," Xander said quickly. "I'm definitely an instant gratification sort of Xan-man."

Spike dived for the presents, and for several moments the sound of rustling and tearing paper filled the room.

"Spike . . . " Xander held up one of his presents. "It's a collar. Specifically, a black leather collar."

Spike smirked.

"Matches the cuffs I got you last year, don't it? We'll get up to all sorts of naughtiness with it, trust me." He held up the luxurious, butter-soft motorcycle gloves Xander had given him, to replace his old gloves which had been ruined by Luxar demon ichor. "Besides, fits the leather theme, luv."

Xander dived back into the present pile, and Spike waited, counting down. Three . . . two . . . one . . .

"CHOCCIE!"

Spike grinned at Xander's gobsmacked expression as he surveyed the Tower of Chocolate, eight boxes of chocolates stacked up to form a tower. And not just any chocolate, but the very finest European chocolate.

"That should keep you bouncing off the walls for a few days," Spike chuckled.

"Mmmmm, love you!" Xander bowled Spike over briefly with the exuberance of his kiss, then abandoned the vampire to delve into his present again.

"Not going to unwrap the rest of your pressies?" Spike chuckled.

Then Xander glanced at Spike, and this time his gaze was full of promise.

"Just one more, maybe," he said, and reached for Spike.